


Dinner Date

by Piekie



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: M/M, basically just porn woops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:24:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piekie/pseuds/Piekie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follow-up to the Model!AU. <br/>Peter and Roman meet again, this time in a restaurant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner Date

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a follow-up to the Model!AU but doesn't focus on modeling/photography anymore. Basically just a little bit of porn. Yes, I am aware I am a pervert. Sorry (not really though).

Peter was nervous.   
It had been six days since his and Roman’s first… Encounter and it had taken Peter five days to pluck up the courage to actually call the number on the card. And in the end he’d still chickened out and sent a simple text, asking Roman if he wanted to meet again.   
Roman’s response came through about eight hours later (the longest eight hours of Peter’s fucking life), simply answering him with a time and an address.   
And that’s how Peter ended up in front of a restaurant at 6:30, anxiously shifting from side to side and craning his neck to see if he could see Roman in the mass movement of people.   
Peter had been surprised when he’d arrived at the restaurant (ten minutes early). It seemed nice, but nothing too fancy, which was something he really had kind of expected. He couldn’t imagine Roman inside this place, actually. Maybe Roman had chosen it because he’d known that Peter would be uncomfortable in the places he usually went. Or because he knew that Peter was really broke.  
He sighed. Maybe this was a bad idea. He still didn’t get why Roman had agreed to meet with him again; he was convinced a rich, handsome guy like him could do a lot better than Peter Rumancek. Maybe he should just leave, send Roman a text he’d fallen ill or something.   
“You haven’t been here too long, I hope?”   
Too late. Roman had arrived from the other direction, startling Peter. Roman smirked at him, and Peter wasn’t entirely sure if the other boy was mocking him or not.   
Peter’s eyes trailed down Roman’s form and he was relieved to see that Roman was wearing the same type of clothes he was; a pair of dark jeans and a white shirt. The first two buttons were undone, and Peter knew that the small bare strip of skin was going to distract him the entire evening. Judging from the look on Roman’s face, he was very aware of his effect on Peter. Fucking little tease.   
“Shall we go in?” Roman made an exaggerated ‘after you’-gesture, that just got him an eye roll from Peter.   
  
They went inside, the smell of exotic food and spices immediately engulfing them. The waiter seemed to instantly recognize Roman and ushered them to the back of the restaurant, seating them in a quiet corner that was mostly lit by candles and the soft light coming from little decorative lamps.   
Peter slid into his chair, looking around the restaurant’s decorations while Roman ordered them an undoubtedly very expensive wine.   
The waiter went to the back, where Peter presumed the kitchen was, as Roman turned his full attention to him with a smile. Peter forced himself to keep staring back at Roman, even though he already felt a blush creeping up his cheeks. Jesus Christ. He couldn’t even look at Roman without getting nervous.   
“I hope you like Indian food,” Roman said, still not averting his gaze. “I love it. I like things that are… Hot.” And okay, he was definitely doing the lip-biting thing on purpose.   
“Yeah, sure,” Peter’s voice came out higher and scratchier than he’d intended. Why had he been so stupid to text Roman again?   
Luckily that was the moment the waiter came back with their wine, so Roman’s attention was momentarily derived and Peter could take some deep breaths without being noticed. They ordered their meal, and with a polite nod and a smile in Roman’s direction the waiter disappeared again.   
For a while, Roman actually turned down the innuendos and provoking actions and seemed genuinely interested in Peter and his photography, asking questions and barely letting Peter ask any of his own. Peter was able (with just a tiny bit of difficulty) to ignore Roman’s long fingers occasionally curling around his wineglass and keeping his eyes level with Roman’s without turning red.   
Peter had been too relieved too soon though. As they were talking, he could feel Roman’s foot sliding up his own leg. Peter had just taken a sip of wine that he now almost choked on, Roman looking on amusedly, a daring twinkle in his eyes as his foot slid up higher, nearing Peter’s thigh. Peter kept telling himself he didn’t want to say anything about it because there were other people in the restaurant and he didn’t want them to notice, but really he didn’t exactly want Roman to stop. That probably made him a pervert but he really didn’t give a fuck right now, barely restraining himself from sliding his hands under the table and pressing Roman’s foot where he wanted the pressure so bad.   
  
“Here are your appetizers, enjoy,” came a chirpy voice from behind Peter. A tiny blonde put down their plates in front of them, purposely bending over deeply in front of Roman. Roman didn’t even so much as glance at her though, just slid his foot up a little higher and sent a wink Peter’s way.   
“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” Roman’s gaze shifted to the girl, who was obviously already smitten with him.   
“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?” he answered her, a flirty tone in his voice as his foot started to rub in circular motions over Peter’s crotch. He managed to convert the groan he let out into a cough just in time. Peter’s face was burning up, both with embarrassment but mostly with arousal. Fuck, he just wanted to drag Roman out of his seat, bend him over this table and fuck him until he couldn’t speak.   
“Alice! Stop bothering our guests.” Their former waiter appeared, apologizing profusely as he dragged the blonde with him into the kitchen, muttering something about ‘her first day’ and ‘so very sorry, sir’.   
“Roman,” Peter hissed, fighting the urge to just hump against Roman’s foot until he came, “stop that right. Now.”   
“Why?” Roman asked innocently.   
“Because… _ahh jesus_ you know why!” Peter groaned.   
“Well, okay, if you insist,” Roman smirked, removing his foot. Nope, Peter wasn’t disappointed at all. It was inappropriate what Roman had been doing and no, Peter definitely didn’t regret telling him to stop. At all.   
  
They had finished their appetizers, Roman shifting back to his adequately appropriate behavior as they talked about Roman’s modeling (pretty fucking stupid, according to Roman), traveling (Peter had told Roman about his photography dreams as a kid and Roman had smiled) and a whole lot of other topics that Peter didn’t think they’d ever discuss. He was currently holding a monologue to Roman why Star Trek was so much better than Star Wars when Roman slid out of his seat and underneath the table.   
Peter looked under the tablecloth, raising an eyebrow at Roman sitting there on his knees.   
“What on earth are you doing?”   
Roman shrugged. “I’m bored. So I’m going to do something else. But you can keep talking and I’ll still listen. I’m pretty good at multitasking.”   
Peter was just about to ask Roman what he was planning to do as he felt Roman’s hands unbuckling his belt. He shifted his seat backwards and looked under the table again.  
“Are you out of your mind?” Peter asked, eyes wide as saucers. Roman just grinned innocently. “What, I’m just entertaining myself.”   
“We’re in a restaurant, you do realize that?” Roman looked up from underneath his lashes and licked his lips, Peter’s dick involuntarily twitching in his pants.   
“Come on, gypsy boy,” Roman said, pulling Peter’s chair back to the table and burying his face against Peter’s thigh, “I wanna suck you.”   
Peter sighed. Really, he could only resist Roman so much. Roman took his sigh as approval and enthusiastically opened his pants, getting Peter’s dick out and immediately sinking his lips down over Peter’s length.   
Peter tried to be as quiet as he could, sitting upright in his chair, his lower body fighting to stay still and not thrust upwards. Slowly he slid his hands under the table, burying them in Roman’s hair. He felt Roman’s quiet moan vibrate around his dick as he tugged on Roman’s hair, and he bit his lip so hard he could taste blood.   
Peter was getting closer to his orgasm as a waiter with two steaming plates approached their table. He looked at Roman’s empty seat.   
“Did Mr. Godfrey leave?”   
_No, he’s just on his knees under this table, sucking my dick.  
_ “Uhh, bathroom,” Peter choked out, trying to smile and seem as normal as possible while his dick hit the back of Roman’s throat.   
The waiter just nodded and placed the plates on their table. Roman let Peter’s dick slide out of his mouth with a soft ‘pop’ and retreating, Peter desperately trying to hold him there by his hair.   
Roman emerged from underneath the table, hauling himself in his seat again and licking Peter’s precome off his lips. A red blush lay on his cheeks. There was no way Peter was gonna wait until they got to either his or Roman’s place to fuck him senseless.   
Roman dug into his food, Peter just staring at him. Roman looked up and met his gaze.  
“What?” he asked, smirking a little.   
“Fuck. You,” was Peter’s only reply, as he tucked his now painfully hard dick back into his pants with a little difficulty.   
  
This dessert was probably going to kill Peter.   
It was very simple, just ice cream mixed with all kinds of fruit, but the way Roman ate it should be very illegal.   
Roman was currently sucking on his spoon covered in ice cream, his cheeks hollowing as he pulled the spoon out and licking off the remains in long, slow strokes of his tongue. The looks he sent Peter made him feel like he was burning up and made him clumsy. The ice cream, slowly melting, dripped onto Peter’s thumb. Roman’s hand shot out from across the table, leaning forward and bringing Peter’s hand to his mouth. Roman’s eyes bore into Peter’s as he licked Peter’s thumb clean, sliding it into his mouth briefly and then letting Peter’s hand go again as Peter just stared dumbfounded.   
Roman then took a strawberry from the plate, tilting his head back and biting half of it off, a little bit of juice escaping from his mouth and trailing into his neck. He chewed then swallowed, and Peter was transfixed by the bobbing movement that Roman’s throat made.   
Peter felt as if he was going to explode if he didn’t go out and get some fresh air. Roman was quick to grab the bill when it came, already pulling out his wallet when he looked up and met Peter’s glare.   
“I don’t care if you’re the rich one here, I’m paying at least half and that’s that,” Peter said in a decisive tone. Roman didn’t protest, just stayed quiet for once.   
  
They walked out into the evening air together, Peter taking deep breaths and filling his lungs with the clean air.   
They started walking, heading towards the subway station where Peter came from. He didn’t ask Roman why he was walking along with Peter. Apparently Roman had decided they would go to Peter’s place to fuck, and that was that.   
Suddenly Peter had had it with Roman’s bossiness. Thinking he was the only one who could decide where to go, that he was the only one that could play a little game. Peter could play a few of his own.  
They passed a small alley and Peter pushed Roman towards it, the sudden force that Peter pushed him with making Roman stumble into the poorly lit passage.   
“What are you doing?” Peter didn’t just see the glint in Roman’s eye, he could almost hear it in his voice as well. Peter just turned Roman around and pushed him face forward into the brick wall.   
“You’ve been bad tonight,” Peter whispered in Roman’s ear, hearing Roman’s breathing speed up, “and now you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences.”   
He reached around Roman, quickly unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down halfway. He admired Roman’s firm ass as he pulled his own pants down. Then he lifted his hand and smacked it down on Roman’s ass, making him whimper.   
“Bad boys get punished, Roman,” Peter leaned back over Roman, sliding his tongue along the shell of Roman’s ear. Again he struck Roman’s ass. Instead of trying to get away from it, Roman just pushed his ass back.   
“You want more?” Roman nodded vigorously as Peter let his hand come down in rapid succession.   
“Ungh, _yes, yessss_ ,” Roman moaned, his face pressed against the wall.  
“Such a nice ass,” Peter murmured, caressing the places he’d hit. “Gonna fuck your ass now, Roman.”   
  
“In my left pocket,” Roman sighed, pushing back against Peter’s hands. Peter reached around, purposefully ignoring Roman’s dick and grabbing lube and a condom from Roman’s pants.   
Peter drizzled a generous amount of lube onto his finger and slid it down Roman’s crack, stopping at his entrance. “Such a little slut,” he said, pushing in slowly, drawing out a moan from Roman, “couldn’t wait to get home, did you now?”   
Roman tried to thrust himself onto Peter’s finger, and Peter added a second, scissoring them. “Another,” Roman groaned. Peter didn’t comply.   
“No, this is all you get. Little tease,” Peter said, slowly sliding his fingers in and out of Roman.   
“Peter, Peter please, _fuck me fuck me fuck me_ ,” Roman sighed, desperately rutting back and forth, trying to rub his dick against the wall.   
“Since you’re asking so nicely,” Peter grinned and withdrawing his fingers. Roman whined at the loss of contact as Peter opened the condom wrapper and slid it on, then squirting it with more lube.   
He positioned himself behind Roman and put his hands on Roman’s shoulders, then thrust in with one vigorous movement. Roman let out a sound that was between a scream and a high-pitched moan, immediately moving in time with Peter’s thrusts.   
“Now, you don’t get to come before I do, you hear me?” Peter grunted out, snapping his hips as fast as he could, manhandling Roman on and off his dick.   
“And you don’t get to touch yourself.” Peter grabbed Roman’s hands and put them against the wall, angling his thrusts, trying to find Roman’s prostate.   
“Yes, _right there oh God yes_ ,” Roman moaned. Peter loved the fact that Roman was so vocal, he got off on the sound of Roman begging him.   
“Almost there,” he grunted, his hands still covering Roman’s on the wall.   
Roman clenched around him, hot and tight, and that sent Peter over the edge. He kept fucking Roman as he came, until his dick was soft. He pulled out, throwing the condom away carelessly.   
Roman still stood with his arms against the wall, his legs still spread as far as they could possibly go. He looked wrecked, and that was exactly what Peter wanted.   
“Turn around,” he ordered. Roman obeyed, his back now against the wall as he panted. His dick was shiny with precome, and in Roman’s eyes there was a desperation.   
“Because you’ve been a good boy and didn’t come before me, you get to come in my mouth.” Peter sank to his knees in front of Roman. He’d actually planned to punish Roman by bringing him to orgasm by giving him a handjob, but the urge to have Roman’s dick in his mouth, to taste him, was overwhelming.   
He grabbed the base with his hand, slowly jerking Roman off as he carefully started sucking on the tip, going deeper and deeper.   
He was aware of Roman groaning above him, warning Peter he was close. He kept sucking as Roman started shallowly thrusting into his mouth, and then there was the salty taste of Roman’s release as Roman let out a string of curses above him.   
  
Peter got up after sucking Roman clean, wiping his mouth. Roman looked fucked out, and Peter just grinned at him as he said: “Sure you’re not afraid of getting on a subway?”   
Roman just punched him in the arm and left the alley in big strides, Peter laughing as he followed.   


End file.
